Peaches, Penelope, Love and Life
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Episode contiuation for "Restoration". Derek returns a bit shaken after a troubling time in Chicago, and Penelope finds the best way possible she can help him. I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hi everyone! The moment I saw "Restoration", this popped into my head. It was something I could see happening, something that could've been helpful. So, here is my hot and sweet episode continuation (In two parts, if I write the steamy scene...which I probably will!)

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The moment those elevator doors opened, Derek knew exactly what he was going to see and hear.

"Did you bring it? Did you bring it?"

He wasn't disappointed. His overly exuberant Baby Girl stood there, the glow of anticipation sparkling in her sherry brown eyes. A pink flush colored her fair cheeks, and her plump bottom lip was caught enticingly between her teeth as she tried to contain her excitement. With expectancy, she wrung her bejeweled hands together, her rings occasionally flashing under the artificial fluorescent lights.

Teasing her, he smiled, but shook his head slightly. Then, with a flourish like the head waiter at _Chez Madame_, he brandished the treasure he'd been hiding behind his back.

"Ohhh!" she cried, clapping her hands and bouncing happily as she stared lustfully at the dish of his momma's peach cobbler. "You brought it!"

Derek held the cobbler in one arm as he slid the other arm behind her shoulders. "Hell, yes, I did. Your man would never let you down."

Penelope melted into his side. "Of course you wouldn't."

It was the world's most perfect fit for him. No one melded into his contours quite like she did. Like she was carved from his side, together they were one person. It was like she was made for him. She made him feel whole. He needed to feel whole after today. He'd taken a shower at his mother's house, had been surrounded and hugged by his family and the friends who had stopped by to wish him well, but he still felt unclean...tainted...dirty.

Carl Buford.

God, he hated that sonofabitch. The devil incarnate. He'd said he was a man of religion, but hell, no! Derek knew many good, honorable Muslim people of faith, and Buford had not been one of them, no matter what he'd called himself. Few people ever got under his skin, but that bastard managed to crawl under and plant a seed with the shake of his hand.

The look on his face...he didn't know if he'd ever get that look Carl Buford had worn on his face as he touched him.

_You have always been special, Derek..._

"D?" Penelope asked, breaking him from his thoughts. "Are you okay, sweetheart? You shuddered like you got the chills."

He kissed the top of her head and sighed. "Yeah, baby. I'm good."

Rossi popped his head out of the conference room and shot them a pointed look. "Excuse me? Are you done schmoozing? We'd like some cobbler."

Derek gave Penelope a soft, cajoling smile. "Honey...are you willing to share? Momma made it for you."

She heaved a long-suffering, dramatic sigh. "If I must."

Derek chuckled as Penelope led the way into the conference room.

* * *

Penelope knew without a doubt that things definitely weren't all right. Derek had said he was good, but the sparkle that was always present was dimmed in his eyes. Not everyone would notice—he hid his emotions well—but she did. He joined in with his fellow profilers, joking and teasing, as they dished out healthy portions of Fran Morgan's _muy delicioso_ cobbler.

"Morgan?" Blake asked as Derek handed her peachy piece. "Did you _really_ say ten years old for your first kiss?"

"Yes, I did." Derek paused, a secret smile curving his lips. "It was by the little green store on the corner with Susie Jackson."

JJ snickered. "Isn't that a little young?"

He grinned over at JJ. "We players like to start early."

"_Ex_ players," Penelope corrected, which earned her a squeeze and a kiss.

"I don't think it's that early," Rossi remarked, just before spooning an enormous peach into his mouth, causing some juice to roll on his goatee.

"Um, actually, it is," Reid piped in, waiting for his slice of cobbler. "According to U.S. statistics, the average age for a first kiss is fourteen."

"It would seem early to you, kid," Derek teased. "How old were you? Twenty-five?"

"At least mine was with a well-known starlet," he responded quickly.

"Touche," Derek replied, winking at Reid.

"I was sixteen," Hotch said, and then he gave a hint of a smile. "With Haley Ann Brooks."

"Aww," Penelope said. "That's sweet, boss man."

"How old were you, Baby Girl?" Derek asked, and then added with mock seriousness, "And do I have to call him out?"

Penelope giggled. "I was twelve. It didn't work the first time."

Rossi arched a brow. "Really?"

She nodded. "I'd watched too many romantic movies when I was younger."

"Still do," JJ taunted.

Penelope wrinkled her nose in a mock serious manner at her best girlfriend, and then focused her attention back on the group. "So when we went to kiss each other, I closed my eyes and ended up kissing his nostrils instead."

With a wink, Derek said, "_Definitely_ don't need to call him out."

Taking his empty plate, she put hers and his on the table and then sat down, scootching herself close to him. "No, lover, you don't."

As everyone else talked, Derek looped an arm around her and pulled her frame closer, so tightly there wasn't an inch of room between them, lowering his head to hers. For a moment, he breathed in her scent, taking a deep breath, as if he were absorbing her warmth. Laying his cheek against her head, just as slowly, he released that breath.

A cleansing breath.

Something was definitely wrong.

Yet, she knew Derek, knew he wouldn't tell her, wouldn't bother her with whatever was troubling him. He hadn't before they'd started dating, and he wouldn't now...unless she made him. Like a Tootsie Roll pop, she had to keep digging until she got to his center, but the center was always the best part.

She continued to worry, and think, until everyone else left, leaving the two of them the last to go. She decided to be direct and shoot from the hip.

"Angelfish...what happened in Chicago?"

This time, he tried to repress the slight shudder that wracked through him. "Honey, nothing you gotta worry your beautiful head about."

"Yes, I do," she said softly. " It's worrying you."

"Baby, I'm fine."

"No, sweet cheeks, you're not."

He frowned at her. "Woman—"

"Man," she interrupted, not giving an inch.

That made him smile. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

She shook her head. "Nope," she answered, saying the word and popping the p as she did so.

He chuckled and sighed. "Okay...you win. It's about Buford."

"Satan's janitor?" she replied sweetly.

He smiled again, but briefly, which made her comment worth it in her book. "The very same. You know I had to see him again."

"Yes, angelfish," she replied sadly. She would've said more, but the look on his face said he needed to continue.

"He gave us those names...the ones you looked up for me."

Briefly, Penelope let the list of names—many, many names—roll through her head, all Buford's victims. This time, she was the one that shuddered as she nodded.

"The names...they came with a price," Derek continued, clouds of hurt and pain rolling in his eyes, and for a moment, she was very afraid.

What had that bastard done to her Derek?

"A handshake... It was a handshake. A simple handshake." He closed his eyes, like he was trying to regain control, and then opened them and huffed out his breath. "Damn it."

"Derek," she whispered, uncertain on what to say, how to react. His eyes were somehow young, wild, hurt. Like the boy he'd been instead of the man he was now. It broke her heart to see him that way.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. "It shouldn't get to me this much, P. The man is dead. He's _dead_..."

_But you're still alive_, she thought to herself, _and so is the hurt. You may not feel alive, but you are. You have joy and love and passion __and—_

It was then that it hit her, the way to help him...by reminding him of all those things in the best way she could think of.

"I'm sorry, love bug," she murmured softly. "That really must've been awful."

"It was," he answered.

He watched her with curiosity as she stood and took a step closer to him and then sat in his lap. For a second, she doubted herself, her idea, but she drew courage from her love for him.

She looped her arms around his neck. "I know this is terrible to say, but I have to say it. I'm glad he's gone."

"Happens a lot to his kind in prison," he said, and although the conversation hadn't shifted, Derek's posture had. He was more relaxed, his arms lazily looped around her middle to hold her in place on his lap. It was like he had something far better to concentrate on—which he did!

"He got his _just desserts_?" she said, tracing his ear with her finger.

Derek chuckled and shook his head at her antics. "Yeah, he did."

"Speaking of desserts... how am I ever going to repay you for remembering that treat for this very worthy girl?" she cooed enticingly.

He arched his brow in surprise, and then a slow smile curved his lips. "Hmm. I may have to think about that."

"Money?" she teased. "Diamonds? Rubies?"

"I was thinking an even trade." Leaning upward, he tugged her down to kiss her lightly and then said, "Something like sweetness for sweetness...peaches for peaches."

Penelope drew in an excited breath. It was his most forward suggestion ever. They were trying to take it slow, not rush things. The first date had ended up lasting twenty-four hours in the sack, making up for eight years of pent-up longing. However, they'd been holding off since—two agonizing weeks—trying to simply date, waiting for the opportune moment to make love again...

She let the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding out, slowly smiling as she did so. "I definitely like that trade..."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! Sorry for the delay between chapters; I've been uber busy! I hope you think it's worth the wait (I do!)...For those with tender sensibilities, Warning: Sexual Content

**Chapter 2**

As she touched her lips against Derek's, Penelope sighed blissfully. She'd been kissed a lot before Derek, but nothing compared to how he kissed. Her entire body tightened, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, awakening the tingles of desire. She loved to kiss him, sharing herself and the love she felt with the melding of their mouths. He was, bar none, the best kisser in the entire world.

What started as little kisses graduated into much more in the blink of an eye. One moment, she was leaning against him, sitting upright on his lap; the next, he had her head against his shoulder, her neck supported by the crook of his arm and her hair streaming over his bicep. Slowly, she drew her hand up behind his neck, holding on to the strong column of muscle for support.

On and on, they traded gentle kisses. He teased her with his tongue, barely touching, and then licked her lips in a wordless request for access. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue delve deeper, greedily taking what she could, and dipping her own tongue into the humid depths of his mouth. He was tasty—peach cobbler, strong coffee, and decadent man, all rolled into one.

While they kissed, he drew his hand up her side to her breast. Lazily, he grazed his thumb over her erect nipple, toying back and forth and sending little zings of arousal through her body. She shivered lightly as he tweaked and pinched the diamond hard little nub, clearly visible through the dual layers of fabric from her dress and bra. She felt weak with want, and the heat and moisture between her legs was blooming out of control.

However, she wasn't the only one. She could feel how it was affecting him, the solid proof of his arousal pressing up against her hip. Wickedly, she wiggled, teasing him and herself in turn. He grunted softly, thrust against her to show his approval, and then continued devouring her lips, staking his claim on her mouth and her entire being.

It wasn't necessary... He already had her, body and soul, hook, line, and sinker.

Long moments later, he sighed, and then he lifted his mouth and moved her back to an upright and seated position.

Sadly, the ride for them was obviously over.

Placing his hands on her hips, he helped her up to her feet. "Up you go, honey."

"But—"

He grinned at her. "We'd better continue this at your place."

She smiled back and then sighed—she wanted him so badly, she could barely stand on her own feet!—and then she noticed one of her shoes had come off during their love play. She bent over, slid the shoe back on...and heard him groan.

Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she saw him staring at her, his dark eyes smoldering hot, nearly black with intensity. He was looking at her like she felt; he wanted her in the exact same, fierce way. She stood back up and stared at him some more, the slight flare of his nostrils, the nearly pained expression of need on his gorgeous face.

Her mind started working. They were the only two left in the BAU, and she knew there were no security cameras in the BAU conference room. There were shades on the two windows leading in that had already been pulled for the night and a lock on the door. No slouch in mathematics, Penelope put one and one together and came up with explosive pleasure.

He'd been in pain enough today. Enough in a lifetime. He didn't need any more. Time to build new memories, starting now. Like the Latin phrase, _Carpe Derek_... Seize the Morgan.

She walked to the conference room door, hearing him start to rise to follow her, and then she engaged the lock.

* * *

Derek was frozen in place, stunned into silence, as his beautiful Baby Girl turned and faced him. When he'd heard the door lock engage, he'd been surprised. Now, as she leaned against the door and smiled wickedly, slipping her shoes off along with her colorful tights, his jaw dropped open.

Here? In the conference room?

They'd had so many memories in that room, both good and bad—moments of abject horror, like the cases they reviewed, and bliss, like meeting JJ's Henry for the first time. However, the bad outweighed the good most of the time, out of pure frequency and necessity.

He had a feeling this was going to change that notion forever.

The air between them sizzled with electricity as she slid off her jacket and then unbuttoned the top two buttons of her dress and pushed it to the floor. Standing there in her matching bra and panties, she was pure perfection. Derek stepped closer to her, cupped her head in his hands, and drew her to him, kissing her with all the desire he felt. He'd been holding back, thinking they wouldn't be able to make love here, but now that it wasn't an issue...he was going to consume her. Every part of her—each breathless sigh, each gentle moan—he would take it in and savor like a gourmand with a feast.

She was just as needy and urgent, clutching at the front of his shirt, wads of fabric in her pretty hands. She dragged his shirt out of his waistband and tugged it upward and over his head, breaking the kiss for just a moment before they dove back together again. This time, he splayed his hands on her back, moving her in even closer so there was no room between them. Her luscious breasts were crushed against his chest, heavy and full, feeling like they filled a void, and the lace tickled his bare skin. He wondered if she could feel his racing heartbeat, how much she affected him.

Unable to help himself, he traced the other contours of her body...her nipped in waist and curved hips. For years, she'd mentioned she needed to lose some weight, but he never thought she did. He'd bet most other men thought the same thing—his gender liked some cushin' for pushin'. No, she didn't need to change a thing. She was exactly what a woman should be: soft, round, bountiful. She was exquisite.

He finally settled his wandering hands on her plump derriere and relished how it filled his hands, giving him something to squeeze and hold onto. For a quick moment, he thought about how earlier, he hadn't been able to get the feel of Buford's handshake away from him. Holding his girl, letting himself be surrounded by her, absorbing her heated breaths and her little shivers and quakes of awareness, he felt it melt away.

"Hurry," she said, bringing her hands to his waist and scrambling to unbutton his jeans, having very little success. Her fingers were nearly frantic.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, unable to hold back a chuckle.

"Hurry... hurry," she said, looking up at him, and now he knew why she was having trouble. Her eyes were glazed with passion, and her glasses were fogged adorably from the heat they produced. Her lips were puffy, kiss-bruised and sexy as hell.

She was delightful...and she was still trying to unbutton his pants. They needed to slow this down, enjoy the moment.

"Hold on, woman," he said. "Put your legs around me."

"Wha—ooh!" she said, as he gripped her butt harder and lifted upward, carrying her over to the conference room table.

He sat her on the table and stayed between her still-splayed legs as he removed her glasses and then put them aside.

Considering what he had in mind...safety first.

"You still owe me a trade, honey," he drawled, reaching behind her to unfasten her bra, drawing the straps slowly down her arms until they were swaying slightly, freed from their constraints. "Peaches for peaches."

"Ohhh," she murmured.

She had the most gorgeous breasts. Full, ivory, with dark pink, sizable nipples, they were centerfold worthy. A work of art...which ironically was his intention. He smiled and dipped his finger into the cobbler that was still sitting on the table. Like Rembrandt with the perfect medium, he painted a circle around one pouting nipple, spiraling inward to the peak, and then painted the other in the same fashion.

As he watched, her nipples tightened into hard buds, taunting him with their appeal. He wasn't into self-deprivation. With a growl, he gripped her waist and pulled her closer, and then with a hunger he didn't know he possessed, he leaned forward and fastened his mouth on her breast.

Penelope gasped, thrusting her breasts forward toward his mouth, as he suckled, licked, and nipped at her flesh. She was sweet, far sweeter than the peaches, and delicious. He nibbled at her, again savoring the treat before him. He felt her shudder as she gripped his head in her hands, trying to make him take more, but he continued to tease her, flitting between her breasts.

At the same time, Derek worked his hands to her hips, held the edge of her panties on both sides and, with a rough tug, tore them apart at the seams. He slid his long fingers between her legs, brushing against her soft, damp curls. He insinuated a finger into her wetness, felt her jolt when he touched her most sensitive spot, and then spread her legs even wider in an invitation he couldn't refuse.

Derek lifted his head from her breasts and commanded gruffly, "Lie back."

Good girl that she was, Penelope did as he bid. Derek lifted her leg, her foot, resting it on the edge of the table. He did the same with the other, and then he dipped his finger into the cobbler again.

_Time for peaches and cream_...

Penelope bucked upward when his mouth touched her, nearly knocking him loose, but he held onto her hips as he feasted. He swirled his tongue, tasting every last drop of peaches and her sweet nectar. He felt her body tighten, her breathing becoming more erratic and harsh, and then she cried out, shimmering with complete pleasure. Nothing was more beautiful than Penelope coming.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer. Watching her orgasm nearly brought him to his own completion. With one hand, he deftly unfastened his jeans, let them drop to the floor, and then he was deep inside her with one fluid stroke. It was sheer perfection, just like the first time they'd made love.

Penelope cried out, music to his ears, as he thrust over and over again. Her breasts jiggled enticingly, and her body was sweaty and sliding on the hard surface in time with his thrusts. Derek rested one hand on the cold table and one hand on her belly to hold her still. As he touched her, thoughts of a child, someday, came into his head. He'd never thought about that with any other woman, but with Penelope, it was right. _She_ was right—his everything.

Derek could feel the tingling draw of completion dawning on him. Suddenly, she was too far away. He wanted to be closer to her, feel her in his arms as he came. He leaned over and raised her so she could wrap her arms around him. Reaching down to her ass, he lifted her again and thrust two more times.

This time, he was the one who cried out, holding her in a tight death grip as he poured out his release. He knew she understood his need, too, because she held onto him just as tightly, surrounding him with all that she was and all she had in her. In that moment, he held it all in his arms, what was truly important, what really mattered—peaches, Penelope, life, and love.

He rested her down on the table again, his forehead against her neck and his breath unsteady. Although he was the one who was Dominant, he had a feeling she'd done this entire scenario on purpose, and rocked his world to the very core. She'd always known exactly what he needed to heal him. He was glad she had; it was hard to hold on to old worries, old pain, and old regrets when his life now was so very good.

"You okay there, love bug?" she asked, gently but surely, patting his sweaty back. From the way she'd asked, he knew she meant those words in more than one way.

He raised his head. "I am now," he replied, kissing her softly.

Her pleased smile made him smile, too. "I'm uber glad, Hot Stuff," she said, smacking his cheek with a kiss.

Derek he helped her to her feet, and then he pulled on his pants and crossed the room for his shirt. When he stood back up, Penelope was fastening her bra and tucking her panties inside.

She blushed. "I can't throw them away in here. What if Hotch found them?"

Derek chuckled, picked up her glasses from the table, and wiped them with his shirt before returning them to her. "He'd think I was one lucky SOB," he replied, placing them back on her face.

She grinned back. "He would."

He pulled her into his arms. "And right now, I am one lucky, _hungry_ SOB."

"Ah," she said. "We shall have to remedy that...once I am dressed."

"Get dressed," he said, releasing her and slapping her butt.

She picked up her dress and then saluted him. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

A moment later, she was dressed, the conference room was in order, and the cobbler was in one of Derek's arms while Penelope was in the other. As they stepped out of the BAU into the waiting night, Derek glanced upward, and for the first time in a long time, he looked up to the sky and saw nothing but stars.


End file.
